


A Convenient Excuse

by Rachello344



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, holiday party, past otayuri, pretending to date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 11:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13098840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachello344/pseuds/Rachello344
Summary: Yuri is six weeks out of his relationship with Otabek, and two years into a friendship with J.J.  Unwilling to be caught dateless at a holiday party, Yuri asks J.J. for a favor.





	A Convenient Excuse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phayte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phayte/gifts).



Yuri _hated_ holiday parties.  No, that wasn’t fair.  He hated holiday parties with the other skaters.  Everyone got drunk and flirty, and he had to suffer through every single minute of it.  And now, he also had to figure out if he was going to have to hide from his ex on top of that.

“Mila, come on, you know I blocked him,” Yuri whined.  “Is he coming or not?”

Mila raised her perfect eyebrows, red lips quirked.  “Planning an ill-advised rendezvous for tonight?”

“What?”  Yuri flinched.  “Of course not.  Don’t be crass.  I want to know if I have to find a way to avoid him or not.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes.  “I don’t know, okay?  He didn’t make any posts about it, for or against.  You have as good a guess as I do.”

Yuri grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and knocked it back.  It wasn’t his favorite alcohol, but it would have to do.

“What are the two of you discussing so seriously over here?”  A heavy arm settled over Yuri’s shoulders.  Glancing up, he frowned at J.J.  J.J.’s eyes were bright with mischief, his grin insufferably charming.  His suit highlighted the breadth of his shoulders, and the deep blue of his tie made his eyes look even bluer than usual.

Yuri forced his eyes away.  “None of your business.”

“Yuri’s worried that Otabek might show up.”

Yuri scowled at her, hissing, “Traitor.”

“Don’t worry,” J.J. said, squeezing his shoulder.  “I’ll protect you.  That guy hates me almost as much as you used to, remember?”

“I don’t need _protecting_.”  Yuri turned his face away, but didn’t shrug out of his hold.  “And certainly not from _you_.”  Yuri pretended he couldn’t hear the lie in his voice.

“Of course not, _mon chaton_.”  Yuri didn’t have to look to know J.J. was grinning like a fool.  He almost looked anyway, but managed to restrain himself.  That smile was bad for his heart.  “By the way, Mila, any update on Georgi?”

Mila laughed.  “You have money riding on it, too?”

“Since they finally let me join the betting pool?  Obviously.”  J.J.’s thumb stroked distracting circles on Yuri’s shoulder, unbothered by Yuri’s sullen mood.  Yuri felt himself shifting his weight to lean against the solid line of J.J.’s side.  “So, what’s the latest?  Still going strong?”

Mila shrugged.  “See for yourself.”  She gestured to where Georgi was standing with his current girlfriend, beaming at her as if she was some kind of angel.  Considering she’d been dating him for the better part of six months, maybe she _was_ an angel.  She’d have to at _least_ be a saint for putting up with Georgi’s everything.

J.J. whistled lowly.  “My chances are looking better all the time, knock on wood.”  He knocked his free hand against his head.  “Think she likes him as much as he likes her?”

“Well, she hasn’t left yet.  I’ve been trying to talk to her alone, but Georgi seems to think I want to break them up.”  Mila pouted.  “I tried to get Yuri to do it instead, but he refused.”

“I’m not getting involved in your ridiculous bets,” Yuri said, crossing his arms.  “I have better things to do with my time.”  He thought she was probably the One.  She always seemed so happy to see Georgi.  Yuri was happy for them, but there was no way he was ever going to tell anyone.

“Didn’t stop you from betting on whether or not Yakov and Lilia were going to get together,” Mila teased, smirking.

J.J. shot him an interested look.  “What did you bet?”

“None of your business.”  Yuri looked away again, blushing.  He thought it was unlikely they’d remarry, but he lived with the both of them.  There was no way they weren’t halfway reconciled already.

“Oh!” Mila straightened up and waved at someone over their shoulders.  “Sara’s here; play nice, boys.”  With a wink, she breezed away without so much as waiting for a good bye.

J.J. laughed, shaking his head.  “Honestly, it’s like they don’t talk every other day.”

“Seeing someone in person is different,” Yuri reminded him, keeping his eyes trained on the rest of the room.  “Skype is all well and good, but…”

J.J.’s arm tightened, tugging Yuri further into his side.  “Well, I certainly can’t argue with that.”  J.J. was probably giving him some dopey smile again.

Yuri cut a glance to confirm; his heart skipped a beat.  He really had missed J.J., even if it had only been a few weeks since they last saw each other.  They’d been friends for something like two years, and Yuri was afraid he’d never get used to the distance between them.

Yuri looked back down at his empty champagne flute, frowning.  “I need more alcohol.  If _he’s_ going to make an appearance, I want to be well on my way to drunk.”

Keeping his arm in place, J.J. led them over to the bar, laughing lightly.  “Well then, let’s get you topped off.  Shall I try to catch up?”

Yuri waved a hand absently.  “Do as you like.”  He ordered something off the menu virtually at random; whatever it was, it was bright blue and smelled strongly of alcohol.  J.J. ordered some kind of whiskey drink.  Leaning against the bar, he tapped his glass to Yuri’s.

“Merry Christmas.”

Yuri sighed, slumping.  “Merry fucking Christmas.”

Yuri took a long drink, relaxing incrementally.  Talking to J.J. was probably going to be the highlight of the whole stupid party.  His younger self would never believe it, but J.J. was probably the least annoying skater he knew.  At least, as long as he wasn’t doing his stupid persona.

“Did I tell you yet?” J.J. asked after he finished his first sip.  “My brand is going to be expanding into women’s wear.”

“What, really?” Yuri blinked.  “You hadn’t mentioned.  Isabella helping you, or something?”

“Yeah,” J.J. said, grinning.  “She just got her degree, and I like her style.”  He winked.

Yuri rolled his eyes.  “I think that’s called ‘nepotism.’”

“It’s fine.”  J.J. waved a hand, unconcerned.  “It’s not like she’s my fiancée or anything anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri muttered, “show me what she’s done so far.  I know you have something on your phone.”  He smiled, just slightly.  “You always keep that sort of thing.”

J.J. laughed.  “Guilty.  Here, let me pull something up.”  He flipped through his phone, passing it over once he was done.  “Scroll left.”

Yuri nodded, sipping his drink as he flipped idly through the designs.  There weren’t very many, and they weren’t exactly mind blowing, but they looked good, and they looked like clothes that real people would wear.  Some of the active wear looked like the kind of clothes Mila would buy for herself, cute but still wholly functional.

“This one’s my favorite,” Yuri said, passing J.J.’s phone back.

J.J. laughed when he saw.  “Of course it is.  Nothing but cat prints for my favorite tiger, eh?”

Yuri shrugged, but didn’t bother denying it.   He might be taller and slower to anger, but they could pry cat prints from his cold, dead hands.  “I’m still waiting for my one of a kind, tiger print, J.J. Style jacket,” he said instead.

J.J. laughed again, even bigger than the last.  Yuri took a sip of his drink to hide his smile.

“Only the best for you, dear,” J.J. teased.  “I have a couple designs, but none of them are perfect yet.”

“You—I thought we were kidding about the jacket!”  Yuri’s face felt warm.  He chose to ascribe it to the alcohol.  “You don’t have to make me a custom jacket, J.J.”

“I know I don’t _have_ to.”  J.J. smiled into his glass.  “I _want_ to.  Seeing you in clothes I made…  Yeah, like I’d turn _that_ down.”

Yuri shivered a little at the thought.  Given their history, wearing a J.J. Style jacket felt like some kind of declaration.  Yuri couldn’t help but imagine how it would be taken; the note of possession evident to outsiders.  Although, as for who was doing the possessing, Yuri wasn’t so sure.

“Well, if you make me the perfect jacket, I’ll wear it.”  Yuri took another drink.  “Publically and everything.”

When Yuri glanced back up at J.J., his eyes were dark and intent.  Unfortunately, Yuri was distracted by movement over J.J.’s shoulder.  A familiar dark head came into view.  Something about his expression must have given him away, because J.J. glanced behind him, grimacing at once.

“ _Oh_ , shit.”

“Fuck,” Yuri agreed, raising his hand for another drink.  Otabek had someone on his arm, based on the dark clothes, someone he knew from the club scene he was a part of.  “He has a new boyfriend _already_?” Yuri hissed.

“What?”  J.J. turned his head again, frowning.  “You guys only broke up, like, six weeks ago.”

“Barely six weeks,” Yuri agreed, scowling.  He took his drink with a muttered thank you and took a long, bracing gulp.  “What the _fuck_.  And now I look fucking pathetic, dateless and alone at fucking Christmas.”

J.J. frowned, meeting his eyes.  “You’re not pathetic, Yuri.”

“Maybe not, but I sure as hell _feel_ pathetic.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “Fuck, I can’t let him see me without a date to the fucking holiday party.”  Yuri scrubbed a hand over his face, thinking as quickly as he could through the slight haze of alcohol.

“You don’t need a date,” J.J. said.

Yuri kept his eyes on J.J., but he could see Otabek approaching through his peripherals.  _Shit_.  “J.J., we’re friends, right?”

“Of course we are.”

“Kiss me.”  This wasn’t exactly the way he thought he’d make a move, but he was running out of time, and he couldn’t think of anything better.  “I will fucking pay you if I have to, but I need you to do this for me.  I’ll—I’ll owe you, whatever you want.”  Yuri grabbed his hand, pleading.

J.J. looked perplexed, but he nodded slowly, his eyes tracking over Yuri’s face.  “Okay, Yuri, if you’re sure,” he whispered.

“I trust you,” Yuri said instead of answering.  This was probably a terrible idea, but it was his only idea.  And, well, better to rip the bandaid off.  J.J. cupped his cheek, leaning in to kiss him chastely, smiling into it.  Yuri’s breath caught in his chest.  With his free hand, Yuri gripped J.J.’s hair, holding him in place so he could press for a deeper kiss.

Yuri was about to lick along the seam of J.J.’s lips when someone cleared their throat.  Yuri pulled back, licking his lips; they tasted a little like whiskey and something sweet.  Slowly, he turned, feigning his surprise—but not his annoyance—when he met Otabek’s eyes.  The sooner he left, the sooner Yuri could see about kissing J.J. again.

“Oh, hey.”  Yuri frowned.  “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

Otabek shrugged, face as blank as ever.  “We thought we’d make an appearance before we head back out.”

“Otabek is DJ-ing  tonight,” Otabek’s date said.  He was taller than Otabek, and he seemed to smile easily.  His mouse brown hair fell in loose curs around the tops of his ears.  His smile was cute, but overall he looked rather plain.  “The venue is supposed to have great acoustics.”

“How interesting,” Yuri said, trying not to sound as disinterested as he was.  Based on the nudge to his side, J.J. didn’t find it convincing.

“Which club?  J.J., by the way.”  He smiled politely, looping an arm around Yuri’s waist, casual as anything.  Yuri leaned into it, surprised by just how easy it felt.  J.J. was tactile most days, but this felt different, even from when they were talking with Mila.  Yuri was so distracted by it, he completely missed the new guy’s name.

Whoever he was, Otabek’s date was telling J.J. about the club they were going to, but Yuri couldn’t focus, too distracted by how easily J.J. had made the switch from friendly touches to the casual intimacy of a couple.

He’d never quite reached that level with Otabek, despite dating for seven months and eleven days.  And, fuck, but he could still feel J.J.’s mouth on his, light and teasing in its pressure.

Yuri wanted to kiss him again.

“So, how long have you two been seeing each other?” J.J. asked, his thumb absently rubbing Yuri’s hip.

“A little over a month?”  The guy grinned sheepishly.  “It feels like the blink of an eye.”

Yuri felt his eyebrows climbing.  “You don’t say.”

J.J. squeezed his hip, probably aiming for somewhere between reassuring and restraining.  Yuri appreciated the effort.  He still felt a little like making a scene, but he wasn’t going to.  Probably.  J.J. smiled down at him, pointed.

“Well, we better go say our hellos to everyone else,” Otabek said, a little too quickly.  “And congratulations.”  He nodded at them both.  “Hope it goes well.”

“Yeah,” Yuri said, frowning.  “You, too.”

As soon as they were out of earshot, Yuri turned and slammed his hand against the counter.  “ _Fuck_ ,” he hissed.  “That bastard broke up with me to get with _that_?”

J.J. wrapped his arm back around Yuri’s waist, leaning along his back.  “Clearly he’s an idiot,” he murmured, his warm breath raising goose bumps as it ghosted over Yuri’s neck.  “Or at the very least, he has bad taste.”

“Y-Yeah?” Yuri asked.  He was almost afraid to turn around, hyperaware of exactly how close J.J.’s lips were to his jaw.  If he turned, they would be a breath away from kissing.  Yuri wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep himself from closing that distance.

“Yeah,” J.J. agreed.  He muttered something in what sounded like French against his hair; whatever it was, he sounded a little annoyed.  “Idiot wasted both our time.”

“Oh?” Yuri turned his head a fraction.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means he knew I wanted to ask you out and beat me to the punch.”  J.J. huffed.  “Then he tosses you aside for one of his fans?”  J.J.’s hair tickled Yuri’s ear as he shook his head.

“You—what?”  Yuri turned his head fully, eyes only darting to J.J.’s mouth once.  “You were going to ask me out?”

J.J. nodded, humming his agreement.  “I don’t know how he figured it out, but the day you told me the two of you were dating was the day I was going to confess.”  J.J. sighed, pulling away to face Yuri properly.  Yuri missed his warm weight immediately, barely stopping himself from tugging J.J. back into his space.

“What do we do now?” Yuri asked, biting his lip.  He certainly knew what he _wanted_ to happen.  His eyes dropped to J.J.’s mouth.

“Well, I think you said you owed me for all this, right?” J.J. asked, leaning on the counter.  He exuded smugness, like he’d been planning this from the beginning.  Yuri knew that was impossible, but he could feel himself buying into it, if only a little.  J.J. looked hot when he was smug.  “So, I think you owe me a date.”

“Only one?”  Yuri raised his eyebrows, suppressing the urge to smirk.

“You only ‘owe’ me the one.  After that, it’ll be up to us to decide together.”  J.J. winked.  “Sound fair?”

“When?”  Yuri asked.  _No way to play it cool with that response time,_ he thought to himself, embarrassed.

“Patience, _mon chaton_ , patience.”  He laughed, cupping Yuri’s too warm cheek.  “We have two options.  Either we head back to the hotel, order room service, and watch a movie on pay-per-view, _or_ we take these suits and go somewhere fancy for a late dinner.”

Yuri bit his lip.  On the one hand, he could spend more of the night admiring the figure J.J. cut.  On the other hand, he could spend the night watching a movie and potentially making out with J.J.  Yuri’s eyes fell to J.J.’s mouth again.

“If we go back to the hotel, can we make out in the suits before we get more comfortable for the movie?” Yuri asked.

J.J. laughed, doubling over, his weight wholly supported by the counter.  Yuri felt his lips tug up, his mirth contagious.  By the time J.J. was catching his breath, Yuri was giggling, too.  “You’re so weird,” J.J. said between gasping breaths.  “God, Yuri, I l—I really like you.”

“That wasn’t an answer, Leroy.”

“Oh, so it’s Leroy when you want something, eh?” J.J. asked.

Yuri smirked, leaning closer.  “Would you rather I call you my _king_?”

J.J.’s face flooded with color, lips parting.  “Y-Yeah, okay, we can make out in our suits before we settle in.”

 _Too easy._   Yuri shook his head.  “Let me wave good bye to some people, and we can go.”

“Not even a proper good bye, Yuri?”  J.J.’s smile was a valiant effort at regaining his equilibrium.  “That seems rude.”

“I could have been kissing you for the past six weeks, J.J.”  Yuri stood, shooting him a pointed glance.  “I intend to make up for lost time, and I’m not about to let people hold us up _now_.”  He shrugged.  “Besides, the only person I wanted to see at this thing is going to be leaving with me.”

J.J. caught his shoulder, pulling him close and pressing their lips together.  Yuri’s hands landed on his lapels as he melted into him.  This time, J.J. licked along the seam of his lips.  Yuri sighed happily.

“Waving is fine,” J.J. murmured against his mouth.  “You’re okay with them all knowing?”

“If I wasn’t, I don’t think my brilliant plan would have occurred to me.”  Yuri patted J.J.’s chest, placating.  “I’m not ashamed of you, J.J.  Besides, they need to know the exact time for their ridiculous bets about us.”  He smirked.

J.J. laughed, kissing him again.  “They’re not subtle, are they,” he said, not a question.

“Being hit by a bus would be more subtle.”  Yuri kissed his cheek.  “Come on, your imperial majesty,” he teased.  “Let’s get out of here.”

J.J. took his hand, twining their fingers together.  “As you wish.”


End file.
